Behind the Candelabra

At Buckingham Palace we decided to try to shatter the impressively uniformed guard’s perfect composure. Those guards are supposed to stand in front of the gates, hour after hour, without giving any indication that they are aware of the steady stream of tourists who come to stare at them and take their pictures. Considering his fame, Michael didn’t think he’d have any trouble getting their attention. When they failed to respond to his overtures he approached one of the guards and put a pound note on the end of his bayonet. The guard didn’t even blink. So Michael put another pound note on the bayonet and stepped back to see if he would get any

about the holiday at the end of October and from then on it took on gigantic proportions. Few children, even those young enough to believe in Santa Claus, looked forward to the holiday more than he did. Although he considered himself to be a religious man the spiritual aspects of the season paled in importance before the opportunity to spend. Christmas gave him the perfect opportunity to exercise the power he had over the lives of people who worked for him; to reward or punish each individual by the size of the gifts he gave to each.

By late October he was hard at work making lists of everything he wanted to buy, literally hundreds of items he planned to purchase personally. At one time he’d used the services of a professional shopper

Christmas was the sole exception to his demand for total privacy. He began planning and talking

stage. Wearing one of his most glittering costumes, he’d comment, “This is one of my sport coats. But don’t ask me what sport.” Part of his magic was the ability to make people like him, to accept him no matter how he looked or what he did. His middle-aged, conservative fans lapped up his performances like contented cats drinking cream

By the time I joined the act Lee was coming dangerously close to revealing his homosexuality on

Lee went for laughs and seemed to delight in poking fun at himself. When the act called for him to dance with the Rockettes famous high-stepping chorus line he said, “I’m no good—but I’ve got guts!” He and Ray Arnett created a new act every few years, but certain tried-and-true schticks never varied. Flashing diamonds on every finger, he’d tell an audience to “Look all you like. After all, you bought them.” At the end of the act he’d walk to center stage, grin confidingly, and say, “I’ve had so much fun tonight, that honestly, I’m ashamed to take the money.”